Possession
by iwannabe
Summary: Daydreams or something more? Fun little one-shot to haul my muse back from extended leave. E/S AH/AU


**A/N Hello friends! It's been such a long time since I last posted something that I'm awful rusty. So here is a small one –shot that was rattling around my brain and it wanted to come out!**

**Disclaimer: You know CH owns it all, don't even look at me.**

**For ambience, listen to Sarah McLachlan's **_**Possession**_

Every night I watch him from my apartment above the real estate office. The small town streets are quiet at this time of night, only the sounds of cars passing on their way to destinations unknown disturb the peaceful silence of the night.

Every night is the same. He leaves the apartment building across the street and peers down at the phone in his hand, seemingly scanning for messages left earlier in the day. He lifts his head up and stares off into the distance, perhaps to the only streetlight lit, as if something has garnered his undivided attention.

I watch him quietly from my perch just inside my office window, studying him in his wistfulness and hoping that one night he would see me. It's easy to fantasize what he may be thinking; his stance shows someone with expectation. Is he waiting for a friend? A lover, perhaps?

I watch carefully from my window, mesmerized as his long blond hair sways so seductively over his broad shoulders. He is a tall man and has the bearing of someone accustomed to being in charge yet his large, slender hands belie someone with sensitivity. He has a curiosity about him that naturally bubbles to the surface as his eyes widen and peer so carefully down the street.

He usually leaves briskly, his long legs guiding him to an unbeknownst to me destination. It's his exit that has me staggered every time, his broad back that tapers so eloquently to his firm behind. His entire aspect silently screams all male and I enjoy watching him move so assuredly.

At last, he leaves the line of my sight, a mere memory of movement and I release an unwitting sigh as I listen to the last of his footfalls on the sidewalk below.

And so it is for another night, and so begins another long day until I see him again. I never see him return to his apartment, or even see him again until the very next night. It's maddening to say the least. I want to know more about him, more about his life, and his loves. Does he have anyone? Is he alone?

Many nights, I stay awake hoping to catch a glimpse of him on his return only to be denied. It is as if he exists only for me in that brief moment in time, a chance glance at the man that has me fascinated at every turn.

My imagination runs wild as I wonder what kind of life he has. I concoct every sort of possibility for him—a police officer, a security guard, a doctor, a firefighter, a chef, a model, a spy, all the way up to and including the most fantastical options, such a ghost or vampire.

I even give him family relations, or at least a semblance of one. He has a mother and father, and a large family. He is a widower that is lost and alone in the world. He is from a divorced family, or even he himself is divorced. He has ten children or he is sterile or has none. He has a dog or a cat or a turtle or some creature who cares for him. Again, the list is endless.

It was with each strange tale of his life I spun for myself, the more intrigued I became with him. I fantasized us together, the two of us as the sentinels of the night. Each night as I watched him out of simple curiosity, my craving grew steadily to obsession. I no longer wished to imagine him with others, and I no longer wanted to imagine his life. I wanted to know him, really know him.

It was a terrible tease night after night, watching his retreating figure walk down the street, unaware of my distant longing. Yet I couldn't bring myself to move from my silent regard since it was fast becoming my favourite time of day. I wanted to see him and see what he would do. I often imagined it was a show just for me. The sway of his body, the ripple of his muscular arms, the small stretch he gave that teased me with the smallest glimpse of his perfect abs, the slight breeze that caught his hair that entranced me like no other.

He was my personal fantasy in the flesh.

Days turned to weeks, and still I kept my nightly vigil, craving each moment I had to watch him. Each night I added more to my vocabulary that was him. I imagined him a sensitive lover, catering to my every need. It was only after he walked out of sight that my true fantasy began.

I slid to the floor in front of the window, my mind already solidifying the dream playing in my mind.

"You're really here," I breathed as I watched him saunter over to me.

"Of course," he smouldered, "Where else would I be but with you?"

"I didn't think you had noticed me," I stammered, "I mean, you always seemed like you had somewhere to go."

"How could I have anywhere to go? You are always going to be the one I would return to night after night," he drawled sexily.

I stood carefully and walked to him, staring besottedly into his beautiful blue eyes.

"You are so beautiful," I breathed half to myself as I regarded him.

He reached out and cupped my face. I nuzzled into his palm, delighted for his touch.

"No darling," he murmured, "You are the beautiful one."

He reached for my waist and embraced me. I inhaled his scent; cool and crisp like winter air but with undertones of musky masculinity that sent my senses wild. My heart beat rapidly as I stared into his eyes and it was all I could do to keep coherent.

He reached down and pushed a stray hair from my face and tucked it gingerly behind my ear. I reluctantly stepped back from him, mesmerized by his eyes looking so intently at me. I reached out and grasped his hand and lead him to the sofa behind us.

"I have been waiting a long time for you," I whispered, "You have no idea how long."

"I think I have been waiting for you just as long," he whispered back and gently guided me to sit with him.

He leaned down, his hair forming a curtain to the open room and kissed me so gently I thought I was going to cry.

Unable to help myself, I reacted with all the pent up passion my body held in reserve and kissed him forcefully, the tip of my tongue forcing his lips open. His kiss was so sweet and I couldn't get enough. My hands traced patterns on his chest and clutched at his T-shirt, holding him in place.

My kiss ignited him and he kissed me back with such a bruising passion that my senses were utterly overwhelmed and I whimpered in longing. Soon, my hands found their way underneath his shirt and to my delight he trembled with suppressed need as my fingers glided over his chest.

Breaking our kiss, his blue eyes burned into mine with lust flaring in their depths.

"I need you, and so help me God I can't stop myself," he stated bluntly.

"Then don't stop," I demanded and brought my already bruised lips back to his.

His hands speedily pulled at the buttons of my blouse and I quickly found myself on back in his arms, his lips never once leaving mine. My body was a mass of pure sensation, his every touch, his every kiss on my body enflamed me. I pulled off his shirt and made quick work of his pants, as he did the same to me.

I huffed quietly and pulled away long enough to ask him, "Let me lead?"

He smirked and laid back, opening his body to me to do with as I wished. Delighted, I positioned myself on top of him and gave him the most sensual kiss of my life and proceed to lick and suck his jaw and neck, snuffling quietly as I neared overdose proportions of his natural scent. It was heady and intoxicating and I was drunk off the taste of his skin and his smell. I licked and sucked my way down a path to his chest where I proceed to present him with a myriad of kisses, nuzzling his chest hairs as I made my way lower.

He panted heavily; small groans emanating from his throat, his hands stroking my back and through my hair. He was clearly as intoxicated as I was and threw his head back as I made my final destination to his heavy, thick manhood.

I breathed up the length of him, careful not to touch but watched him through lidded eyes to watch him react to the pleasure I was creating in him. I leaned down tentatively and licked a long, messy line up his throbbing cock as he uttered the sexiest, deepest moan I believe I ever heard.

Rational thought was thrown to the wind as I ran on pure instinct. I licked and sucked only to hear the increasing tempo of his moans and growls. I cupped his balls and softly massaged them as I drove him further and further into ecstacy. He panted and writhed, his hands squeezing the life out of the sofa pillows. I was in oblivion, smelling him like the walking aphrodisiac he was, tasting him as if he was the finest caviar, touching him along his chest and thighs as if he was made of the softest silk.

Soon, he stiffened and cried out as his sweet release coursed down my throat. I savoured him and carefully licked him clean. I watched him calm slightly when he suddenly had a predatory look in his eye. He growled, flipped me on my back, snatched my panties, and ripped them off my legs.

"My turn," he snarled.

He snaked his silken tongue between my breasts pausing to suckle my nipples and took his time sniffing and licking his way down to my waiting heat. One swipe of his tongue on my sodden core and I fell once again to oblivion as he caressed my body and teased my senses higher and higher. The pleasure was so exquisite that I knew the only oblivion I could find was with his masterful tongue and lips. At my zenith, I felt my eyes cross and my body vibrate, shouting out my benediction for his efforts.

He climbed up tenderly to my awaiting lips as he kissed me, my own release coating his tongue. I was in a paroxysm of joy, my keening emotions utterly destroyed by the man of my dreams. We cuddled and quieted, spending little kisses and soothing caresses. Cradled in one another's arms we listened to our evening heartbeats.

Soon, far too soon, he slowly moved away from me and stood with a soft smile upon his lips.

"I have to go, it's time," he said gently.

Confused, I looked at him and asked," Why do you have to go?"

"You know why," he smiled.

I looked at the clock on the wall to check the time but when I looked back he was gone.

Lights outside my eyelids coaxed me awake and after blinking I saw that the dawn had risen. Another night had passed and this time I had fallen asleep beneath my window.

It had only been a dream I sighed resignedly, and stood up to get ready for my day. As I showered, I thought of the amazing dream I had and realized that I spent far too much time by my window imagining things about a man I didn't know. I felt kind of foolish then and resolved to myself to stay away from my nightly vigil and to let the dream man go.

I admit, the next week or so was hard, every part of me wanted to take up residence at the window to see him. But as time moved forward, I grounded myself into reality. The man on the street was a fantasy man, one I conjured in my mind. It wasn't healthy to dwell on someone who you didn't know or didn't know you and instinctively I knew that. I engrossed myself with work and friends and soon my obsession at the window fell by the wayside as other things in my life took precedence.

Three months had passed and I was making my way home from the local pub just up the street. It was a great night out with friends and I was eager to get home and get to bed as I had had a long day at work. Not watching what I was doing as I was looking for my keys, my purse slipped out of my hands and hit the sidewalk. Grumbling, I fished out the right key for my apartment and turned to pick up my purse when I was disturbed by a smooth, deep voice.

"Looking for this?" he said.

I looked up and saw the object of my fantasy right in front of me, the man I spent months obsessing over.

My eyes wide, I reached out to grab the bag from him and stammered," T-thank-you."

"You're welcome," he smiled and turned to walk away.

I watched him incredulously, unbelieving that the man was here in front of me when he suddenly turned around and asked," Where have you been the last few months?"

Startled, and slightly embarrassed at having been obviously caught, I tried to casually answer, "Been busy, you know?"

He nodded his head, and looked his way up the street and then regarded me carefully, "You wouldn't mind grabbing a coffee with me?"

Astonished, and struck dumb slightly, I nodded my head and smiled shyly, "Sure…um…right now?"

"Yeah...if that's OK?" he asked nervously.

I smiled wide and nodded, "More than OK."

I fell into step beside him as we made our way up the street, looking over at him every now and again.

So, what's your name?" he asked with a shy smile.

"Sookie. Yours?"

"Eric. Nice to meet you."


End file.
